


The Belly of the Beast

by eoan



Category: RWBY
Genre: Action/Adventure, Background Bumbleby, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eoan/pseuds/eoan
Summary: SPOILER WARNING!Yang and the boys had no choice but to go into the giant whale Grimm in hopes of rescuing Oscar, but they're starting to think it wasn't the best idea. Finding Oscar was easy enough, but getting past the raging Hazel and back to safety are proving a bit more challenging.Can they make it out before time is up?
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	The Belly of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER WARNING: Don't read this unless you've seen up through V8C7.

Yang bounced bodily across the ground; if you could call it that. The belly of the beast was somehow more unsettling for how artificial, how obviously designed it was, despite the pulsing pink and red and vaguely living passageways never allowing those foolish enough to venture inside forget that they were within a massive creature.

_And venturing inside certainly was foolish_ , Yang reflected as she skidded to a stop, her shoulder a beacon of pain from the massive blow that she had barely blocked. They had slipped past the perimeter of Grimm easily enough, thanks to Ren, and the passageways had been empty otherwise. It had taken them a few minutes to locate Oscar, but they had. Even now, he was dangling mere feet from where Yang was gasping and struggling to her feet. So close, yet so impossibly far away. Between her and the limp form stood a raging giant: Hazel. He had been lurking in the corner of the room when they entered, and Ren’s semblance couldn't hide them from humans.

His attack had come so swiftly that Yang could hardly remember how it had started, or when he had slammed the dust into his arms. They had tried to talk to him, reason with him, but that had failed miserably.

Ren had even done that…thing he had done to the Ace Ops back in the Manta. Yang wasn’t sure what it was, but he had somehow looked _into_ them. He had clearly seen something in Hazel as well, but when he called out his doubt, his anguish, and fear that he was on the wrong side, Hazel had become a blur of dust and muscle and rage, and Ren had been left in a heap on the floor. Yang stole a glance over at her fallen comrade as she forced herself to one knee. He was still crumpled in a ball in the corner, not moving save for a shallow rise and fall along his back. Not dead.

She breathed a sigh of relief that became a gasp as Jaune was sent flying past her. Yang rushed to his side, helping him to his feet as guilt twisted her stomach into knots. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he grunted, twisting side to side and running his hand along his ribs. Probably checking for broken bones. “Just trying to come up with a plan.”

“Yeah…” Yang replied vaguely, but she could hardly hear him over the chorus of accusations in her head. That it was her fault they were there in the first place. Her fault for letting Oscar get captured, her fault for letting Ren get taken out of the fight when they so badly needed him. Gods, it was her fault they had split off from the group in the first place, the least she could do was keep them all safe, but she couldn’t even…

“Yang?” Jaune said, glancing between her and Hazel as he stalked forward.

“Sorry. What?” she said, snapping back to the present.

“I asked if you had any-“

But she was already striding forward, her mind made up. No one else was going to get hurt, not for her. “Hang back.”

“You can’t fight him alone.”

Yang cursed Jaune’s newfound backbone. It was a good thing, on the whole, but she didn’t need him to be brave right now. She needed him to be alive, needed all of them to get out. Whatever it took. He’d come a long way since his inauspicious first days at Beacon, but he wasn’t the one she needed right now. Ren may have been helpful if he'd been conscious, but what she really needed was seamless teamwork, someone who could practically read her mind. But that person was out of reach, for now, so Yang was more or less on her own. She shook her head. “No one else is getting hurt because of me.” She didn’t wait for him to protest, launching herself forward with a burst from Ember Celica instead.

Some part of her had hoped that she would catch the big man off guard with her sudden attack, but he was unreasonably fast for someone so big and strong. He blocked her initial salvo like so many mosquito bites. Still she advanced, using feints and misdirection, leaning into every ounce of training her father had put her through. She reminded herself of what he’d said, that fights weren’t decided by strength alone, but she really wished someone had told Hazel that.

It was clear that the man was quite skilled in his own right, though Yang had a suspicion that all things being equal she had better technique. He was just so strong. Worse, his natural power was multiplied by the dust flowing through his veins. With his semblance blocking out pain and a seemingly endless reserve of aura, he shrugged off her strikes in a way that made her seriously doubt her father’s wisdom.

Then he stumbled.

Yang looked past him, dumbfounded, to find Jaune grinning back at her. His sword was transformed into its more powerful two-handed mode, and he’d clearly just landed a full-bodied swing on Hazel’s leg.

The big man staggered back to his feet and turned with a roar to face Jaune, so Yang began laying into him again. Two dust rounds to the back and a kick across the temple drew his attention, but this time he decided to go on offense.

His attacks were big and wide and obvious, but so fast and continuous and with enough force behind them that it was all Yang could do to slip and weave the deadly blows. Her ribs began to ache with the force of her gasping breath, and she knew she was running out of time.

He stumbled again.

Yang grinned at the perfectly timed attack, but it was wiped from her face when Hazel whipped around in a blur and hit Jaune with a devastating backhand. With no shield and no time to dodge, Jaune was caught full in the chest, defenseless, and sent sailing across the eerie room. His flight was interrupted by the wall, and an agonized cry burst from his lips when he hit. Yang's breath caught when his aura flickered, but it held.

She wasn’t the only one watching; Hazel had also stopped to observe his handy work, a savage leer on his face as he watched Jaune slump to the floor. Yang felt her rage build, felt her semblance beg for release, but she held it in check. No doubt her eyes were red, but she could only control so much.

“Forget about me?” she growled as she coiled and unleashed in one fluid movement. She landed two punches that would have shattered rock directly on his chin, only to watch him shrug it off as she stepped back.

“No, I just don’t consider you much of a threat,” he rumbled. Yang fought a laugh. The effect of his nonchalant reply had been ruined somewhat by the glowing mines stuck to his face.

“Fuck you.” Not the most eloquent response, but Yang was out of eloquence. She detonated the mines. The blast obscured his face, but Yang had already measured the distance. Hazels hands clawed the air, trying in vain to stop the incoming assault. Yang ducked under them easily, crouching low to add power to her lunging uppercut, firing a dust round at the moment her hand landed on that granite chin, willing it to crack.

It didn’t.

He stood, brushing debris from his shoulder as though her attack had been but a minor inconvenience, and sneered. “You’re never going to beat me,” he growled. “You can't save him!” he roared.

“But why-?“

Yang never finished her question, couldn’t even remember what she’d hoped to learn as she dove frantically aside to avoid the massive overhand Hazel had launched so quickly she’d nearly missed it. It was unfair that he could swing so hard without ever seeming to tire; if anything, he seemed fresher now than he had at the beginning of the fight.

She ducked and dove and deflected what she could, focusing on limiting her aura use, maintaining her reserve, though she wasn’t even sure why anymore. This man was so big, so powerful, she felt like she was fighting a force of nature. A staring contest with the sun would have been more fruitful. Her limbs began to drag. It was only a matter of…

Yang never even saw the blow that caught her square in the ribs, but she heard the sickening crunch quite clearly. Her vision went white as she was thrown across the room, but she was still conscious enough to feel her impact with the wall. It was softer than concrete, but only just, and she nearly vomited as the wind was blown from her lungs by first the collision with the wall, then by her graceless collapse to the floor. She blinked her eyes open and found that she could only really see out of one; the other was awash in a river of her blood. She reached up and touched the cut over her eye, wincing but relieved that it felt superficial. Scalp wounds always bled like crazy, even minor ones, but it probably wasn’t great that she couldn’t remember getting hit in the head.

Something was wrong with her limbs. She tried to rise, once, twice, and on the third time let herself rest where she'd fallen. She was done. What little aura she had left couldn’t heal her wounds, and it certainly couldn’t fuel her semblance. She’d failed, and she’d let everyone down in the process. The worst part was that she was never going to get a chance to make up for it. To apologize to the little impromptu team that had formed and struggled and fought together, or to Ruby. Ruby…Yang hoped that she would know how sorry she was. Not just for the fight, but for leaving her to carry on this war without her.

Her mind, swimming with pain and grief and guilt, floated on to its favorite topic of late: Blake. There was still so much to say, so much to do, but Yang had always thought they would get to it, someday, when the moment was right. The battle won. Now she wished she hadn’t waited.

The sound of thudding feet filled her ears, and she snapped her head up just in time to see a monster shrouded in arcing electricity bearing down on her. She wanted to rise, wanted to meet him and her inevitable death head-on, but her legs were so wobbly, her arms so heavy. She was so, so tired…

A flash of purple dazzled Yang’s eyes, and her heart fluttered. It was Blake. Summoned by her thoughts as if by magic. A rush of relief and gratitude and something Yang refused to name washed over her. Blake was here to save her, or at least be with her for the end…

“Yang, get up!”

“Jaune?” she mumbled, blinking her eyes at the form standing guard over her. She shook her head. Of course it was Jaune, he was the only one here to swoop in and rescue her. “Thanks,” she said, forcing herself to her feet despite the protests of her aching limbs and the piercing pain in her side from every shallow breath. “Nice one,” she added, seeing that his gravity dust burst had thrown Hazel clear across the room. Not that it had stopped him, but he at least needed a moment to untangle his limbs after his failed rush. Jaune had saved her life. Yang looked at him, took in his determination and worry and strength, and realized that despite everything, she still underestimated him sometimes. She made a mental note to stop doing that.

“What do we do?” Jaune asked.

Yang was stunned. One thing she never doubted was his leadership. Jaune was the idea guy, and he was asking her? Now? After she had failed so spectacularly that he had needed to save her ass. She pushed that thought aside. They were out of time for guilt trips. They were also out of time for strategy. This was a brawl, and that was Yang’s home turf. Besides, she had an idea.

“How much aura do you have left?”

“Not much,” he replied, his face drawn as he glanced down at his scroll. “You aren’t looking any better.”

Yang swiveled her head from side to side, cracking her neck. She didn’t need to check her scroll to know how bad it was. Besides, with a semblance like hers, knowing her aura level had become a reflex. “How long will it take you to recharge?”

Jaune looked at her, then away as he did a mental calculation. She knew that he had been training his aura relentlessly before everything went to hell, and everyone knew he had one of the deepest natural reserves of aura around. Well, except for the giant that was dusting himself off and glaring at them, perhaps. “Thirty seconds, maybe a minute,” Jaune said, settling into a fighting stance as their opponent began to approach them, warily this time.

But Yang stepped in front of him, rolling her shoulders. “I’ll give you that time, don’t waste it.”

“But-“

“Jaune,” Yang said, giving him what she hoped was a confident grin over her shoulder. “I’ll give you the time, but I expect you to pay me back. I can’t beat him alone.” His eyes went wide, then he nodded. Yang turned back to face her massive opponent as she heard Jaune sheath his sword. She strode forward, adding every ounce of swagger that she could to her walk, swaying her hips and smiling up at the man who could kill her with an errant swipe of his fist. Something about her walk must have unnerved him, and she saw hesitation behind his bulging eyes.

“I was getting bored, so it’s just you and me now, big guy,” she taunted, coming to a stop just beyond his massive reach where she planted a hand on her hip and bared her teeth.

Suspicion turned to doubt and then amusement as the big man weighed her bluff. “We’ll see if you’re still so confident once I’ve broken you,” he rumbled, his eerie doubled voice sounding more demon than human.

“Yeah, we w-“ Yang began but was cut off as he lunged forward. His first swing was wild but blindingly fast, and it was all Yang could do to get her arm up to block it. The massive fist clanged to a halt on her metallic forearm, a fact that didn’t escape Hazel’s notice as he growled and swung with his free hand.

Yang was ready this time, and she easily weaved under the incoming blow, slipping deftly between the next two as well. He was fast, and his form wasn’t awful, but she was starting to see how his rage drove him into predictable patterns. Of course, predicting what was coming was one thing; dodging or responding was another. Her breath grew fast and ragged as she flowed through the rain of fists, her body racing toward its limit as she moved in the one direction that was safe: closer to the raging behemoth.

Inside his reach, she was in her element. She flowed into one of her favorite combos, using her defensive weaves to set up a series of hammer blows: hooks with her entire weight and the force of explosive dust rounds behind them. She made it through nearly seven straight before he cleared his vision enough to counterattack, but when he did, it was with horrible precision. She was moving too fast for him to hit her with his full power, but when his massive fist landed on her recently broken ribs, she let out a pained gasp and sank to her knees.

She might have been able to absorb more of that blow, but it would have broken what little aura she had left. Instead, she had doled out what she hoped was enough to protect her internal organs. Though based on how wet her breathing sounded, she worried she may have been a bit too stingy.

But what choice did she have? Her aura couldn't break. Not yet.

“Had enough?” gloated the monster, his breath heaving and his gaze manic.

Yang wanted to say yes. Wanted to cry and puke and beg for mercy. Instead, she played for time. “What’s your deal?” she said, clutching at her side. “Why serve Salem? Just want to help destroy the world?”

“I want to destroy everything that Ozpin has built. If the world must burn as well,” he snarled, glaring up at where Oscar hung limp. “Then so be it. Yield, and I’ll make your death quick. It’s over.”

“I didn’t hear a bell,” Yang shot back, spitting casually and trying to ignore the amount of blood mixed in with her saliva. She forced a smile onto her lips as she dragged herself to her feet and raised her hands, her screaming muscles only just managing the fighting stance that had been drilled into her for years. Time, she just needed time.

But Hazel wasn't in the mood to grant it to her. His assault was immediate and relentless, a rain of blows from above in quick succession. Any one would have been enough to crack her skull like an egg, aura or no. Only adrenaline kept her moving, dancing away just in time to see his massive fists slam impotently on the ground. The berserker howled in rage, the veins on his neck and face standing out in a grotesque display. Yang’s dazed mind idly wondered if he might give himself an aneurysm at that rate, but she was distracted as he wound up another attack.

She raised her arms, relieved to take another on her unwavering right, but it was a feint. He switched and came back with his own right, forcing her to catch it with her very human left. She managed, barely, but as she did, she heard a disconcerting creak that escalated to a crack, and then her left forearm was awash in a flame of agony.

“Yang, now!”

Jaune’s voice pierced her cloud of pain just in time for her to drop beneath Hazel’s follow-up attack. She thanked her years of training that she didn’t need to look around to find Jaune; she had kept a constant map of the battleground as she had fought for her life. Unfortunately, that map placed Jaune on the other side of her opponent.

But Hazel was a brawler, he rarely used his legs, preferring to swing with his big meaty arms, and Yang could see that his feet were wide. Almost wide enough to…

“Man,” she said, offering what was no doubt a bloody smile up at her opponent. “I thought we were fighting. If I had wanted to dance, I would have asked your-“

The response was a swing of such terrifying might that Yang never even considered blocking it, not that she had intended to anyway. His arm sailed overhead as she dove forward, rolling between his wide and shifting legs, leaving a mine just under his heel as she passed. She came up to her feet at a run, detonating the mine and sending Hazel pinwheeling forward. Yang reached the other side of the room before she even heard him hit the ground. Jaune greeted her by resting a hand on her weary shoulder, and a wave of soothing light washed over her. 

“How are you doing?” he asked, looking at the sealing cut on her forehead.

Yang shook her head, closing her eyes to gather herself. “I’m fine, but it was close. Do you need to maintain contact to do your thing or…?”

“Nope,” Jaune replied, pulling his hand back and smiling as she opened her eyes. “I’ve been practicing. Should be able to reach you anywhere in the room.”

Yang shook her head, looking down at her hands as her aura flared to life with a sudden intensity. She grinned up at him. “Jaune, you’re the best. Keep it up.”

He nodded and reached for his sword, but she held out her hand. “Focus on doing your thing. I need space for this, and I need you to keep me alive while I do it.”

Jaune looked ready to protest, but the look on Yang’s face convinced him. He shook his head and nodded, and then took a deep breath. Yang felt the energy flowing through her redouble, and she let a laugh full of relief and rage and pain and excitement. It was a weird feeling, letting someone protect her, trusting them to keep her safe. Especially when that someone wasn’t Blake. But it felt good, and it meant she was free to do what needed to be done. Time to turn the tables.

She spun in time to see Hazel draw out two red dust crystals and drive them into his arms, next to the others. She didn’t wait for him to finish howling as the energy surged through his veins. She wanted to press the attack while her aura was flowing and her stamina seemingly limitless. It wasn’t, she knew, but the feeling was intoxicating, so she rode it. She poured on the attack, hitting Hazel with everything she had, forcing the raging beast of a man back under a barrage he clearly hadn’t anticipated from his worn-out foe.

Still it wasn’t enough, still he shrugged off her attacks, either shielding them with his massive arms or simply absorbing them with his face and body. None of it seemed to phase him, though more than once she saw a flicker as he was forced to use more and more aura to absorb her blows. If she had to wear him down, one punch at a time, she would. Whatever it took, she was going to put him down, protect her team. She would-

Her fist stopped so suddenly that her mind went blank. She had gotten sloppy, slipped into a pattern of her own, and Hazel had caught her hand in his. Yang cried out as he closed his fingers, the bones in her hand crackling under the slow and deliberate pressure. She swung wildly with her right, hoping to distract him, but he caught that as well. Yang snarled up at him, knowing she was out of options but refusing to give in. She needed to stop him before he did any permanent damage, and she could feel Jaune wavering as he poured aura into her to continuously heal her breaking bones. She snorted, breathing deep and collecting the blood that had started flowing from her nose at some point, then spat it directly into Hazel’s face. With no free hand to wipe it off, he blinked and snarled, rage filling his eyes as he looked down to find Yang grinning up at him. He reared back, roaring his fury as he snapped forward to deliver a devastating headbutt.

Again, the world went white, but this time there was little pain. Yang bounced across the floor, a disturbingly familiar feeling at this point, but the soothing flow of aura didn’t falter. Aches and pains throughout her body called out for its touch, but their cries fell on deaf ears. It wasn’t time for healing.

It was time for hurting.

Jaune must have read her thoughts. At that moment, another surge of power ran through her, and Yang smiled.

Then she burned.

Her semblance had always been flashy, always turned heads. Red eyes were one thing, but her mass of golden curls igniting like a flame was a sight to behold, a sign of impending doom for her opponents. But that fire was a candle, a guttering spark next to the inferno that she had become. Then she burned brighter still. Suddenly a staring contest with the sun seemed like a fine proposition, as did fighting the seemingly unstoppable force before her. The room was flooded with her light, and Hazel was forced to raise his hands to shield his eyes as Yang stalked toward him. He tried to blindly defend himself as she drew near, but the power of his own blows batted his arms aside like reeds standing against a hurricane.

Yang strode right up to him, no longer afraid of his power or fury. She glared up at him, enjoyed the way his eyes teared up at the mere sight of her. She wound up, slowly, deliberately, and punched him in the face the force of several of his blows. He took it, but the shuttering flicker of aura and the way he wobbled on his feet put a fierce smile on Yang's lips. She wound up again, this time landing a vicious blow to the stomach, doubling him over. She waited as he gasped and panted, waited for him to right himself. Then she pulled back, focusing all the hurt and fury and will she had into her hand before unleashing it on the wavering man. The blow hit like a meteorite pulled from orbit and sent him flying so hard into the wall that his aura exploded in a burst of twinkling lights before he slumped to the floor. For a moment the room was silent, the raging light fading as Jaune pulled back his aid and Yang’s aura ran out in a golden puff. She let out a trembling breath, her limbs feeling terribly weak after wielding so much power.

She froze when she heard shifting and moaning from the heap of a man on the floor. Hazel was conscious, against all odds, and he looked like he was struggling to his feet. Yang shook her head, terror clenching at her soul. After all that, what more could they do?

Hazel looked up at her, his teeth gritted, but she soon saw it wasn’t in anger. It was…pain?

Then he screamed, a terrible, animal expression of agony as he struggled with the dust in his arms. Jaune looked on in horror. “His semblance…it blocks out the pain of all the dust he shoved in his arms. When you broke his aura…”

Yang turned back to the hunched and howling figure, shocked at how much empathy she felt for the man. Part of her wanted to leave him, he was an enemy after all, but she knew she couldn’t. “Get Oscar,” she said, striding over to where Hazel writhed.

Jaune’s eyes went wide. “But-“

“Just do it,” Yang said, trying to reassure herself as much as him. She stopped several feet from Hazel and looked down at him warily.

She watched as he wrenched the dust out of his left arm, pulling it free with a horrible sucking noise and leaving two bloody holes behind. He gasped and snorted and fumbled with the dust in his right, managing to jiggle one crystal loose with his blood-slick fingers before falling back to his hands and knees.

He growled up at Yang as she continued her approach, but seemed in no shape to attack. Up close she could see him trembling from head to toe, muscles and tendons straining under his sweat-soaked skin. She stopped outside his reach, watching him.

“Why?” he rumbled through gritted teeth. “Why serve him?”

Yang spared a glance for Oscar, watching as Jaune lowered him to the floor and began checking his injuries. She looked back at Hazel, still panting on the floor, and shook her head. “I don’t,” she replied simply.

“But-“

“I’m a huntress,” she said, unconsciously standing straighter at the title she had once misunderstood so thoroughly. “I serve the people of Remnant. Just like my mother did. Just like my friend, Pyrrha, did. Just like your sister did.” Hazel’s head snapped up at the mention of his sister, and Yang didn’t need any fancy powers to see the raging torrent of emotion there, but it did little to soften her heart. “Yeah, I heard your story. Grow up. You’re not the only one who’s lost someone in this war, but you are the only one I’ve ever met who used that as an excuse to join the enemy.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

Yang leaned in. “Anything but that. I’ve chosen to honor those I’ve lost by fighting on in their stead, and by protecting the ones I have left.” She looked at the unlikely crew she’d risked everything for, meeting Jaune’s smile with one of her own. “Just as they fight to protect me.” She looked back down at Hazel. “Do you really think Gretchen would be proud of the atrocities you’ve carried out in her name?” She flung a weary arm toward Oscar’s limp form. “Do you think she would be happy to know that you tortured a _child_ for her?”

Hazel’s head drooped, his lips moving impotently for a moment. Finally, he found his voice. “Please,” he gasped. “End it. Kill me. Please.”

Pity surged in Yang’s chest as she saw the anguish and shame dance across his square face, but she banished it. He deserved no pity, and he would receive none from her. She hardened her eyes and her heart as she stepped forward and reached out with her metallic fingers to grasp his square jaw, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“No.”

Her free hand lashed out, grabbing the last dust crystal still lodged in his arm and wrenching it free. Hazel let out one more gasp of agony, then collapsed forward onto the ground, where he finally lay still. Yang looked down at him, rage and pity still battling within her as she tossed the bloody crystal aside.

Jaune nodded to her, clearly agreeing with her decision as he leaned over Oscar. He lifted his hand, intending to boost the battered boy’s aura, but Yang strode over and stopped him. “Wait,” she said, reaching down and feeling for a pulse. “He’s just unconscious, and you need to save your aura for Ren. He’s our ticket out of here.”

Jaune hesitated, then nodded again. “Right,” he agreed, his face grim. “You take Oscar.”

Yang nodded and accepted the small form, grimacing as she took in his wounds. Oscar suddenly seemed so small, so frail, so in need of protection that she’d failed to provide. Yang felt an extra pang of guilt as she slung him over her shoulder. She wished she could be more gentle, but she still needed a free hand if they were going to get out of there.

She looked over as Jaune went to work on Ren. There were a few guttering flickers of pink around the prone figure, but he didn’t stir. Jaune gritted his teeth as his hands began to shimmer with his efforts, and before Yang could warn him to pace himself, she watched his aura shattered. Jaune sat back on his heels, gasping as though he’d just sprinted a mile but smiling as Ren moaned and sat up, holding one hand to his head and looking around in confusion.

The pair helped each other stand, but that was all they managed before Yang’s scroll started to buzz. She pulled the device from her pocket and read the display. “It’s Winter,” she explained before she answered, “Hello?”

“Finally. Did you find Oscar?”

“We did, but…”

“Good. We are en route with the bomb. You need to get out, assuming you haven’t already. The timer has already been set.”

“Fuck. How long?”

“Not long. I’ll send it to you so you can monitor it yourself. Don’t tarry.”

“We won’t. Thanks, Winter.”

“Don’t thank me, just get out. Good luck.”

“You too-“

But the line was already dead. Yang looked down at the flashing alert on her scroll. She let out a dark laugh, then gently set Oscar on the ground and slid down to sit next to him.

Jaune cocked his head. “Yang, what are you doing? We have to go.”

She let out another hollow laugh, then held up her scroll so he could see the timer as it counted down past five and a half minutes. “Our auras are broken and we have five minutes to get past an army of Grimm. Sometimes you have to be realistic, Jaune.”

She could almost see the gears turning as he fought valiantly to come up with something, anything. “Ren?” he asked with more than a little desperation in his voice.

Ren shook his head and leaned back against the wall. “I couldn’t even cloak myself long enough to get out, let alone all of us.”

“So we just give up?” Jaune was pleading now, not ready to accept the reality.

Yang was trying not to beat herself up for every wrong choice that she’d ever made, trying not to think about how all of her efforts were too little, too late. The least she could do would be to give them some hope. “No,” she lied. “We’re not giving up. We have one minute to recoup as much as possible, then we’ll make a run for it. At least then we might have a few scraps of aura between the three of us.”

Jaune looked at her, his narrowed eyes trying to parse out if she believed what she was saying. Whatever he decided, he didn’t call her out, and instead sat down and closed his eyes, meditating. “Okay,” he breathed. “One minute.”

“Yeah,” Yang said vaguely, contemplating how she wanted to spend her last peaceful minute alive. Sadly, Blake was too far away for what she really wanted, but then again…

Yang smiled when she looked down, Winter hadn’t called her on a tight beam, it had gone through the tower. That meant she had a signal. She punched in the number for the voice she so desperately wanted to hear right now, then listened as it rang once, twice, three times.

“Yang?”

Yang’s heart skipped a beat at the raw emotion conveyed in that single syllable. She completely forgot that she needed to reply.

“Yang, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here.”

“Are you hurt? Yang, where are you?”

“I’m okay, and I’m…kind of inside the giant whale Grimm.”

“You’re what?!”

Yang cursed herself, there wasn’t time to explain. “Look, I can’t talk long. I just had something I needed to tell you, in case-“

Blake cut her off with a voice like cold steel. “Stop.”

“What?”

“Whatever you need to say, you can say it to my face. When you come back. Do you hear me?”

“I,” Yang’s throat clenched. This had gone much differently in her mind. She found a smile, a genuine one, creeping onto her face. Damn but Blake understood her. “I do. We’ll, uh, we’ll talk soon then, yeah?”

“Very soon.”

Yang closed her eyes. She was still smiling, but she couldn’t stop a single tear from escaping the corner of her eye. “Good. I’d like that.”

There was a subtle sound on the other end, and Yang hoped that Blake wasn’t crying. Suspected she was. When she came back, her voice was strained. “Do you want to talk to Ruby?”

“Yeah, I…yeah. That would be good. Goodbye, Blake.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

There was a brief exchange that Yang couldn’t make out, then her sister’s voice was in her ear, sounding older and more full of worry than she’d thought possible. “Yang?”

“Hey, sis.”

“Yang, do you need help? We can-“

“No, no. We got this. Listen, I’m so, so sorry for…well, everything,” Yang blew out a breath. “I never should have doubted you. You’ve been put in an impossible position and done such an incredible job of leading us all through it.”

“But-“

“No ‘buts.’ You’re an amazing leader, never doubt that.” Yang bit her lip, but pushed forward. “I love you, Ruby.”

“I love you too.”

“And I am so, so proud of you.” Jaune was standing and looking at her meaningfully, so Yang gritted her teeth and climbed to her feet. “Okay, Ruby. I’ve got to go.” Ruby failed miserably to hide her sob, but Yang forced herself to be strong for her. One last time. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon,” she said with a confidence that she in no way felt. “Until then.”

“Until then,” Ruby parroted, her voice wavering.

Yang keyed off her scroll, then took a deep breath and nodded to Jaune. “Alright,” she said, “Time to go.” She noticed Ren staring at his own scroll, so she caught his eye. "Everything okay?"

"Nora isn't picking up."

Jaune glanced at Yang, then forced a smile. "I'm sure she's fine. You know Nora."

Ren was silent, then put his scroll away with a sigh. “Right. I’ll…mask us,” he said, wincing and clutching at his side.

“Okay,” Yang agreed, “but take it easy.“

Before the words could leave her lips, the door to the chamber opened. Yang stepped forward, preparing herself to fight, but there was no one there. She looked at the empty doorway in confusion, pulling back when it snapped shut again.

“Don’t attack,” came a familiar voice.

Then the air in front of the door shimmered, and a figure appeared.

“Emerald,” Yang snarled, raising her clenched fists.

“I said don’t attack!” Emerald said, her empty hands raised.

“Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t,” Jaune challenged. Yang was pleased to see that he had drawn his sword in a flash and was currently pointing it directly at their newest guest. Not that he could do much if she used her mind trick, but still.

“Because I’m the only one who can get you out of here,” Emerald shot back.

There was a shocked silence, and Jaune shook his head when he saw the look in Yang’s eyes. “No, it’s a trap.”

Ren cocked his head, the weird look returning to his eyes as he stared at Emerald. His aura shattered again after a few moments, but he didn’t seem to notice. “She’s…sincere,” he said, surprised at his own assessment.

Jaune wasn’t buying it. “Ren, how can you be sure? She could be using her semblance to-”

“I’m with Ren,” Yang chimed in. “Besides, there’s no plan B. Maybe it is a trap, but we’re dead either way.” She looked Emerald up and down. No doubt the girl was a consummate liar, but something about her seemed so…earnest. It didn’t take a semblance to see that. “Think you can get us out of here in,” Yang said, looking at her scroll. “Four minutes?”

Emerald’s eyes went wide, then she nodded. “Yes, but we have to hurry.”

Yang shrugged and scooped up Oscar, then looked at Ren and Jaune. When neither protested she stepped forward. “Lead on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just my take on what might happen after the hiatus, can't wait to see how wrong I am!


End file.
